Hawke's Many Encounters
by NZstarzz
Summary: A series of fluffy, humorous sometimes otherwise shorts of Hawke and companions doing random things. The gender of Hawke may vary but will usually be my character; female, Anahera Hawke (or Ana for short)
1. Bath Time with Hawke

Bodahn poured the last bucket of steaming water into the secure tub by the fireplace. Hawke stood behind the screen in the far corner and was about to de-robe and get the bath when there was a gentle knock on the door. She popped her head around the corner of the screen and looked to see her mother, elegant and untouched, stood smiling gently. Behind her there was just a small amount of green and a stunning bright blue for Hawke to guess.

"Merrill, Isabela, hi," she said cheerfully as her mother stepped aside and walked away down the stairs, "What're you doing here?"

"Well, we thought we'd visit. It was the only thing that would stop kitten here from trying her first sip of alcohol out of sheer boredom and curiosity" Isabela explained staring at the innocent, bright eyed Merrill who stood, hands clasped together before her and shoulders raised in purity, gleaming at them both.

"Why not? You all do it but me" she replied her accent sharply defining her words beautifully and adding to her cuteness.

"It's besides the point," Isabela said, hands on hips and frowning, her words, too, slurring at the ends and exemplifying her smouldering, sexy look that appealed to men so frequently , "Do you know why I call you kitten, kitten? It's because you're the innocent one. I can't have you taking a sip, getting flat out drunk then setting someone alight with a spell unknowingly from your drunken state". Merrill sighed and Hawke stifled a laugh managing only to contain it with a glowing grin. Merrill glanced around and gasped when she saw the steaming bath.

"Oh! Were you going to have a bath? We're so sorry. We didn't mean to intrude. We'll go now if-"

"Oh no, I can wait. I don't mind at all. Please, stay" Hawke refused smiling gallantly. Isabela smiled and stepped in front of Hawke folding her arms.

"Well, unless Hawke is hiding something or embarrassed, she can have a bath while we're here. We're all women here besides, I want to see if the rumours are true" Isabela grinned eyeing Hawke.

"Oh- um, no. I couldn't. I just… Wait, rumours?!"

"Ooh! Let's call for two more baths and we'll have a girlie time. I've never done this before. It won't be so embarrassing then. Plus, Isabela kind of needs one" Merrill giggled as the pirate launched forth and grabbed at her playfully. The elf hurried out calling Bodahn for two extra tubs and Isabela leapt away to fetch several bottles of wine leaving Hawke still mumbling objections.

Several minutes later and Hawke stood over her bath with Isabela and Merrill at the ones in front of her. Isabela stood waiting for Hawke to de-robe refusing to herself until she'd fully examined Hawke to 'see if the rumours were true'. Hawke could only imagine what speculation was happening in Isabela's head as the dressing gown slipped off Hawke's soft skin and fell to the floor revealing in her in all her glory. She felt her cheeks burn as Isabela's teeth grinded together lustfully and Merrill's mouth dropped open.

"What? Is it ok?" she whispered her cheeks now aflame. Merrill used the moment of distraction to strip down and she slipped into the hot, steaming water. Isabela shamelessly undid one golden button on her shift and then, suddenly, her entire ensemble fell to the floor revealing everything but her hide leather boots as Hawke slid into the bath tub before her. Hawke sipped the wine bottle Isabela had given her as Isabela sat down. They relaxed for a while in the water to the sound of the fire. Until Merrill caught them off-guard.

"I met a young man the other day. A human, he was. I volunteer at Anders' clinic and he's an apprentice healer there. Anson his name is. He's Antivan but he came here when his family was murdered by the Antivan Crows. We worked together and then, yesterday, he took me to the Wounded Coast" Merrill said absentmindedly, "Did you know, there's a hidden cave along the base of the cliffs where a carved, stone bench sits. We had lunch there; I picked some wild herbs and fruit, he caught fish and I roasted it all with my fire spell. I really like him. I do". Hawke stared at Isabela in shock.

"So," Isabela started mischievously leaning on the side of the bath, the water dripping from her grainy, tanned skin, "Have you… you know," she asked. Merrill looked in confusion, "Have you jumped his bones, yet? Done the deed?"

"Oh, no! We've only known each other a few days. I wouldn't have… I've only thought… It was just a thought…" Merrill said her face reddening at the sheer mention of such a thing.

"Ooh, it seems like you need advice from the expert well-known as 'Stallion' to any who might entertain her whim," Isabela flaunted as Hawke snorted slightly sipping wine from the bottle, "and the 'Champion' who is obviously talented and any man is so _very _lucky to bed her". Hawke spat out the wine in shock and slight horror shaking her head and refusing that she just said that, "Aw, haven't had much in a while?"

"No, I just… I don't get that much that I could give hints"

"Is it really _that_ bad?" Isabela asked cringing at the thought of a lonesome Hawke and a body like hers going to waste.

"Let's just say the view was _much_ better in Lothering" she replied much to Merrill's laughter at the playful way they jested and teased each other endlessly. Isabela sat back and sighed closing her eyes, listening to the fire crackle and then… She sighed seeing the door silently close and the drapes along the wall to her left move ever so slightly.

"So," Isabela said curiously not ashamed to show anything but knowing Hawke would never agree, "There must someone. We spend time with such… interesting characters. Is there really no-one. Fenris?"

"Hmm… nah" Hawke shrugged reaching for the sponge in front of her floating on the water.

"Varric?"

"Oh, if only! Just imagine him, _imagine!_ Hmm…" Hawke said dozily thinking of the small, strangely handsome dwarf, "I think it's the chest hair"

"Sebastian, perhaps? I mean, come on. That accent"

"By the Maker, imagine his reaction if you, _you _all people, the one woman in all of Thedas who could charm any man to bed and be done with it in 3 minutes flat, propositioned him. The look on his face would just be… Oh, I think he'd die" Hawke laughed and Merrill giggled as Isabela pictured before chuckling softly.

"Anders, then?"

"Ha, ah. Imagine if Justice got in the way. I wonder, would it make things better or worse for him to arrive?"

"Hmm…" Isabela pondered.

"Um, Hawke," Merrill said softly smiling gently but mischievously, "You may be able to make a dirty remark and change the topic with Isabela but I don't get dirty jokes so… um- you didn't say no to Anders". Isabela shot up and grinned seeing Hawke dive under the water and come up drenched in water. Her soft, black hair was dripping and the water ran down all the curves of her body. Isabela listened intently to a small sound;

"Careful, you might move the curtain," a low voice said, "You may not do it but you're, ah, 'boy' might. In fact, it's almost touching my face". Isabela chuckled and watched as Hawke stood up and revealed everything to the air around her. She stood for a while on the towel as the water slid of her body and her hair dripped down her back. She reached for a towel exposing the round, tautness of her buttocks. She sat on the bed in her robe and took the powder from a chest at the foot of the bed applying it to her skin. She put too much on her chest and rubbed it in vigorously making both breasts shake slightly. The powdered dust stuck to her and highlighted her. She put on a red tunic and a pair of black breaches. She was smoothing the water from her hair when she heard;

"Ok, boys, she'd dressed now. Show's over". Hawke shot up staring at Isabela.

"No," she said smiling. Then her smile turned angry and she started to shout, "No! Who? Who was it? Where are they?" Whilst she raged Anders and Varric slipped behind her and it was only when she noticed the open door in the full-length mirror did she give chase. She fled through the house seeing Varric in the hall and sprinted out into Hightown. She turned the corner but had, by now, lost sight of Varric. Instead, her gaze turned to a figure slinking away slowly. She jogged to the figure and saw the golden hair and feathered robe.

"Oh, um, Anders," she said awkwardly, "How-how long were you two there?" He turned and, out of the blue, pulled Hawke in by her hips, kissing her unexpectedly but she didn't resist. Afterwards, he let go and she stumbled back in slight shock and awe. He grinned watching the flash of Bianca golden frame in the setting sun and said quietly to Hawke;

"Just long enough"


	2. Cats Are So Much Better

The box moved slightly as Hawke wandered the streets of Lowtown with the crate tucked under left arm and a sack of fresh loot over her right shoulder. The setting sun glanced off the jewels of a nearby vendor's wares almost blinding hair. As she stumbled and flinched at the bright coloured flash the crate hissed and keen scratching noise sent a shrill shiver up Hawke's spine as the claws scraped the surface of the wooden crate.

"Not long now" she whispered wandering past the Hanged Man and down the street. She looked casually to the right of her and saw the sleazy, grey-haired uncle she'd come to love. Who was she kidding? She hated the arrogant, sarcastic, scum-bag prick. But still, blood was blood and now that they'd moved to Hightown the least she could do was help him out so he can enjoy an evening at the Blooming Rose. She spontaneously threw the sack of loot at him catching the side of his head and sending him sprawling to the floor. She didn't care to see if he was okay and just continued making her way to the sewer grate and climbing down into the fog of Darktown.

There was the smell week-old, burning nug and century's worth of excrement as she shuffled the crate from her left to right hip. The box shuddered and hissed again. The sour faces around stared as Hawke trotted down the rickety wooden steps and around the corner going down and up two more sets of steps before stopping at the door. A blue light burst under the door illuminating her legs as her hand reached up and knocked against the wooden surface. The box seemed tame as the light peered through the two small air holes. Hawke walked in and saw him stood there wiping his hands with a ragged cloth as two women helped and old man away. She smiled at him cheerfully and skipped to the bench like a six year old placing the crate beside her and sitting on the floor before it. She patted the space beside her and Anders chuckled before squatting beside her and looking at her curiously. She flicked the latch on the box and waited for the door to fall open and sour faced, golden, arrogant monster slinked out of the dark crate and pounced on the floor. Anders face lit up at the sight and he beamed at the creature as it circled around him deciding if it liked him or not. In the end, it rubbed its soft golden fur against Anders' leg and purred deeply as his hand reached down and stroked its tawny head.

"For me?" Anders uttered listening intently to the purr of the creature.

"Well, you said you missed Ser Pounce-A-Lot, so…"


	3. What Happens At The Blooming Rose

"The templars are coming for you" Hawke announced walking away from one of the 'employees' she'd just spoken to. The Blooming Rose wasn't exactly 'blooming' but was a fine enough establishment that over half of Kirkwall were regulars. It was pretty enough place; lanterns lit and dotted everywhere, bowls of candles, candy dipped fruits on coy plates decorated with images of stalks or wedding bells or woman's lips, two great statues of swans with women stood brazenly clutching the necks and lustrously pouting or biting a bottom lip. Vases full of roses stood by the wooden bar and their petals were occasionally plucked. The waxy petals were strewn on the floors and on many of the beds or pallets used for entertaining. Gauche murals decorated the walls and several patrons were stood admiring the crude images. Hawke sighed looking down and leaned on the banister rubbing her forehead in dismay. It had been a long day.

"Everything alright, Hawke?" Varric asked placing a gloved hand on her arched back. She groaned and shook her head slowly squeezing her eyes shut.

"I just want to go one day- _one day _- without meeting an insane mage," she said quietly standing back up to peer over the balcony, "One day". Varric chuckled agreeing with her. They made their way down the carpeted steps and were about to exit when Fenris and Merrill stopped.

"Uh, Hawke?" Fenris said extending a hand and placing it over Merrill's eyes.

"What now? Who's killing who?" she said irritably. She walked back to him and followed his hand as it pointed to a figure who had three women nuzzling into his neck and stroking him. The man groped the women and they giggled gleefully at everyone movement, "Oh, Andraste save me. By the Maker. By the stone, the void, the Dread Wolf! Please, no"

"Is that," Varric said pulling Hawke by the hand to the man, "Gamlen?" Gamlen turned and looked in shock seeing Hawke staring in horror at him with his hand in places they shouldn't be with a stranger.

"I won't tell your mother if you don't" Gamlen stuttered. Hawke retched against bar.

"I'm not here for that! I'm helping a girl find her brother, a templar, last seen here. Oh, by the Void I think I'm going to vomit!" she said struggling to keep her stomach from churning.

"Wait," started Varric patting Hawke on the back, "Isn't that… Carver?"

"What?!" Hawke yelled shaking her head rapidly and backing away squeezing her eyes shut to blacken the world out, "No, no, no. Just… NO!" She sprinted out the doorway dragging Merrill and Fenris with her. Varric stood chuckling. He glanced at Gamlen.

"You're welcome" he said before winking at one of the girls and walking to the doorway.


	4. Merrill's Last Sip

Her green scarf waved slightly as she danced around the alleyway. Her feet glanced off the dusty dirt floor, hands slapping against the dirt walls either side of her. She flicked her staff around on her fingers and pulled her scarf off waving it in the air. She threw it aside and bent down grabbing her breaches by the knees and tore pulling the fabric away in odd chunks. Her fingers fumbled with the feather shoulder pads which eventually came away. Her eyes glanced around- no-one was around. She knelt to the floor and scooped dust into her hands. She smudged the chalk-like dirt onto her pale skin and obscured the Dalish tattoos. She tugged at the small elastics in her hair which caused the hair to fall down in loose strands changing her facial feature completely. The drop on her head sent a wave of shock through as she looked up at the grey evening sky. Another droplet splashed down on her and just missed her eye. She revelled in the rain as it began showering her and she stripped away the accessories of her outfit leaving nothing but the scraps left of her leggings and the loose blouse under her robes. The rain felt good as it washed over her as she danced around the alley gracefully. Her feet pounded against the hard floor but suddenly it was no longer hard. Instead it was a wet, soft fabric. She looked down and saw the roof of the stall beneath her and the crowd gathered watching her jump and grab hold of ledge above her. She pulled herself up and became suddenly aware of the green glowing around her. As she stood on the edge of the house, she stared at the alienage in horror. Suddenly, she became dizzy and saw the flash of white zip down the step to her left followed by the green slowly blurring her vision until her body gave way and she fell forward.

The white light woke her up as she felt the warmth of something along her back. Her cheek was pressed firmly against a plump white pillow. But it was moving. Swaying gently. Her eyes opened and she watched Hawke's green armour approach her.

"Good catch, Isabela," Hawke said reassuringly, "Merrill, are you ok?"

"Oh, bloody hell, kitten! That's it; we're never letting you take a sip of wine again. Come on, we'll sober you up"


	5. Hawke's Satinalia

Dragon Age; Hawke's Satinalia-Part 1.

Zoë Hawke peered around the room. The smell of stale urine and strong ale filled the Hanged Man in a limbo of dusty mist but Hawke had become accustomed to it. The holiday decorations of elfroot and spindleweed wreathes, fake imported candles and brightly trimmed trees gave her high hopes for the coming holiday; Satinalia. The holiday was traditionally designated to celebrate the second moon, Satina, but mostly to celebrate the ending of Winter and hope for a good harvest in the days to come. Mainly they celebrated it at the beginning of the eleventh month. Varric shook Hawke's arm and she turned to see him sat to her right in a cracked, old chair.

"So?" Varric asked with his eyebrows high.

"Well, with Carver being… gone," she sighed closing her eyes at the thought of her little brother, "Mother has planned a small gathering. Gamlen will be there-"

"Better provide alcohol then, Hawke" Varric laughed and Hawke smiled.

"-and we've asked permission to have Bethany released from the Circle for a few days but she's only really allowed if a guard is with her" Hawke frowned with whimsy. She took a long sip of ale from the dirty mug in her pale hands.

"Well, what if you invite that Macha and her Templar brother, we did, after all, save him" Varric suggested taking a swig of ale.

"No, he might yet be possessed, remember. They won't allow it; then again, neither would mother!"

"How about Thrask? We could use his daughter as leverage" Varric said.

"Varric… No, she's dead. I'm not going to smear her name whilst her ashes are still warm," Hawk rejected, "But that Cullen does seem to have a soft spot for me"

"Soft spot?!" Varric laughed, "He's close to chucking you into the Gallows!"

"Well," Hawke laughed cheerily feeling slightly abuzz, "I've come to know some cold hearted Templars; namely Knight-Commander Meredith; and I've come to know a nice one from one on the verge of ripping my heart out like Fenris can; again, namely Knight-Commander Meredith"

"Well…?" he smiled raising an eyebrow and spreading his arms out slightly.

"Well, what?"

"Am I invited? Because…" he grinned cunningly, "since Bartrand died I've been pretty-"

"All right! No need to guilt me into it, just- don't tell the others!" Hawke giggled to herself.

"Tell us what?" said Isabela sitting beside Hawke and tilting her head, "Your plans for the holidays? Tut-tut! Trying to avoid inviting me?"

"Well, no! I-"

"I'm in!" she chimed abruptly finishing the ale in Hawke's cup and leaving nothing but filthy dregs. Hawke sighed.

"We're going to need a tree!" Varric claimed in delight.

"A big one, too!" Isabela added.

"What is your obsession with 'big things'?" Hawke sighed.

"Oh, and I suppose size doesn't matter then?" Isabela smiled.

"Well… it has to be reasonable" Hawke giggled. They laughed drunkenly and discussed the up-coming event like Orlesian nobles for the rest of the evening before getting besotted and going home in a drunken stupor.


End file.
